Acceptance
by Liez
Summary: How is love supposed to grow in a world where their relationship is forbidden? A TasChi fiction. Chapters 22,23,24 up. [Completed]
1. Author's Note

*Updated*

Author's Note

I just want to say thank you to all the people who took time and effort to give me reviews.

My second Tasuki x Chichiri (or in this case Genrou x Houjun) fiction. I decided to post them bit by bit this time instead of flooding the whole story at one go, because I'm planning on making this one substantial and full of things I might include on inspirational whims. All comments, suggestions, ideas and constructive criticism are welcome to be mailed to me at liez@crazywriters.zzn.com.

Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me but the story.

Rights: I've said this before, but I'll say it again. Please don't reproduce any of my works, or host them, without permission. Don't plagiarize, and don't take credit for stories that don't belong to you. That's all. 


	2. Prologue

Prologue

Genrou walked into the room and closed the door softly behind him. Before him, seated carefully on the corner of the bed, Houjun refused to meet his eyes. He felt a deep pang within him, and he knew it had to be done before he lost his nerve. 

"Houjun," he started apprehensively, leaning slowly back against the gray cupboard that lined the opposite wall. "We have to talk."

Silently, Houjun nodded in agreement.

"We—I—" he couldn't find the words that he knew needed to be said, and that somehow was funny, a spot of irony in the situation. But the thoughts suddenly came, and when they came, they had to be spoken, direct and fast.

"It was me who initiated this relationship. I never knew it would affect you so much. I also knew in the deep of my heart that all this was one-sided. You've never belonged to me the way I wanted to belong to you. And even though we shared a few kisses…it never meant anything much, did it," he laughed under his breath at himself, but pushed to continue.

"Recently, every time we're together you can't even look at me. When I touch you, I see you shrink back, and your expression at that moment…you should see yourself, Houjun! You recoil from me!" he bit his lip to stop the tears from choking his words, from giving in to the respite of sobs which threatened to break from his body. 

"I'm sorry for everything I've put you through, Houjun. I started it, so I'll be the one to break it off. It's the best way." There. It was out, in the open. He started and turned, opening the door, anxious to be out of the house before his control shattered.

"Don't go."

The voice was so low that he thought he had imagined it at first, but knew better. He paused and bowed his head, praying silently, but he knew it was hopeless. Staying would only mean more heartache, for the both of them.

"Don't go, please."

The tears were blurring his vision as he swallowed, hard. "Why?"

The silence that followed was unmistakable. He closed the door quickly and left.

@@@

Houjun watched the door close, silently, and the muffled sound of footsteps slowly fade and disappear. Conflicting emotions raced through him.

"It wasn't one-sided," he whispered to himself, choking on the grief that had flooded him as Genrou walked out the door. "But I don't know what to think, Genrou. Nobody will ever accept us. You don't mind…you've always had so much confidence…but I don't know if I can take it, Genrou."

Memories flashed through his mind. Genrou, sitting opposite him at the sushi bar, grinning as he grabbed plate after plate of suspicious looking foods and demolished them whole. Genrou when he had first seen him, with glasses and that ridiculously short ponytail of auburn hair. Genrou smiling, Genrou laughing…and he felt his heart twist. _I don't know what I'm feeling except…_

He stood shakily, composing his thoughts, before dashing out the door at a dead run, flying down the stairs and out the main door to the gate, leaping over it, his sneakers meeting the concrete with a dull 'thud'. He looked to the main road, where the familiar figure was walking, head held high, hands in jeans' pockets, the posture straight. He ran, feeling the humid air brush back his bangs, felt the salty tears drying on his face. He ran till he reached the redhead, and with a force that surprised even himself, threw himself at the other's back and embraced him fiercely from behind.

_I don't know what I'm feeling, except…_

"I need you," he rasped, the tears making his voice rough and low. "Don't go." 

Under his hands, Genrou stiffened.

"I've made up my mind," he said shortly, throwing Houjun's hands off roughly and running off without a backward glance.


	3. Where it all started...

Chapter One

The school holidays were ending in one and a half months, and Genrou was determined to make full use of the time he had left. He stood on the outside of the plastic wall which separated the large frozen oval of ice and the corridor, and watched as the skaters went round and round. 

"Well, come on, Genrou!" Kouji shouted impatiently at the entrance to the rink, waving madly at his friend. "Let's go!"

He walked over and grinned sheepishly at his best friend, reaching for his wallet and pulling out the smooth bill with a slightly regretful expression on his face. Kouji grabbed their tickets, and ushered him in, throwing him a pair of blue and white gloves in the process. "You've got socks on, right?" but before Genrou could answer Kouji squatted down and pulled up the hem of his blue jeans, checking for the said item. "Good." Nodding in satisfaction, he led the way to the rental counter.

They lined up to get their skates. When it came to Genrou's turn, he stood there hesitatingly, unsure of what to do.

"Size?" the burly man behind the counter asked, looking him over. Genrou shrugged. "Well take off your shoe and put your foot on the scale."

"36. Here." A hefty pair of skates was thrust at him and he staggered under their weight as Kouji shoved him aside and greeted the man. A few minutes later, Kouji noticed that Genrou was snarling softly under his breath.

"What?" he asked, pulling the laces tight and tying them deftly. _It's been a long time since I did this…_he thought absentmindedly to himself as he finished. When Genrou didn't answer, he sighed and twisted to face his friend, "What is it, Genrou?"

The auburn hair fell slightly onto the taller man's brow, covering his eyes as he answered in an amazingly level voice. "I can't tie these things."

An eyebrow arched.

@@@

After Kouji had finished lacing up Genrou's skates, they stood up awkwardly and made their way to the edge of the ice. The taller and less experienced of the two froze on the spot, his hand clenching tightly on the side bar as Kouji leapt merrily onto the ice and spun around in a few, slightly off-balance, circles.

"You go ahead," Genrou tried to smile. In this case, he only succeeded in baring his unusually sharp canines, giving him the look of wholly wolfish nervousness. Kouji nodded and glided off.

Genrou put a hesitant foot onto the ice, wincing as his stepping slid and he wobbled wildly to the side, gripping the bar so tightly his knuckles turned white. He gritted his teeth. _How do those idiots make it look so easy?!_ He took one step, then another, and then another.

@@@

[Three hours later]

He had to admit it was kind of fun, even though his feet felt half-frozen and his hands warm through his gloves. He had progressed to walking on the ice a safe hand's grasp away from the bar, and for some reason, going round and round in aimless circles no longer seemed as boring. Kouji was somewhere ahead, occasionally whizzing in and out of the crowd with the rest of the speed skaters and hockey-skaters. 

_I need a break,_ he thought, sliding ungracefully to the side and nearly flipping over the low bar in exhaustion. He looked up, his gaze moving enviously over the scene before him, from left to right…even that little boy seemed to be doing much better…back to the left…was that old woman crazy or just unafraid of the unknown dangers of spinning in barely-notable circles? He sighed and looked directly across him where another boy stood casually, black gloves dangling from the tips of his fingers and his hair hidden by a cap. Was it his imagination, or was the other skater looking at him?


	4. Seeing him, wanting to know him

Chapter Two

Houjun twisted his foot slightly so that the ice would scrape the steel of his skates, bringing him to a complete stop at the side of the rink. He loved the rink. He had been skating for eight years, since he was a mere eleven years old. Through those years he had seen many people come and go at the rink. There were the hockey-skaters, like him, and there were those who came occasionally for enjoyment. The rink was always packed during the public holidays though. 

"Hey Houjun!" Hikou yelled, over the noise of the blaring music from the large speakers at every corner of the enclosed space, and skated over to join his friend. "How are things today?"

Houjun felt his gaze search the rink and land on a familiar figure, almost against his will, but turned away quickly and grinned at his friend. "Just great, Hikou, just great. But you better go. Kourin seems to be calling for you," he gestured at the slight, brown-haired girl who was coming up the corner. She skated with hockey-skates too. The three of them had been hanging out around the rink for a long time.

As Hikou kicked a shower of ice onto Houjun's jeans with a wicked laugh and sped off, he couldn't stop a smile from spreading over his face. Then, unconsciously, his eyes slid back to focus on the tall figure, half flipped over the bar, dressed in loose jeans and a large shirt with a bright orange cat painted on it. He cocked his head and sighed. _So I like men…big deal._

He crossed one ankle over the other and stretched out languidly, before looking across the milling crowd of new skaters and seasoned ones, over the large expanse of ice, and caught a pair of intense amber eyes staring back at him. _Oops. Perhaps I was a bit too obvious?_

@@@

[An hour later]

He held his skates loosely by the plastic covers that slid smoothly over the blades. It was time for him to go home. He had been skating since the morning. But he couldn't bear to leave, not just yet…

Making his decision, Houjun leaned back against a broad pillar and sank to the ground, sitting casually and making an effort to disguise the source of his interest without much success.

@@@

_Is he sitting there and watching me or what?_ Genrou growled to himself as he moved shakily, but more surely than a few hours ago, over the ice. The boy, who looked slightly older than him, had amazingly bright blue dyed hair that was covered mostly under his white cap. He wore a dark blue sweater that matched his hair and tight-fitting black denim that showed off his slim physique to firm perfection. He was one of the expert skaters, obviously. Genrou had watched him out of the corner of his eye ever since he had looked up and locked gazes with the bespectacled speed skater. He had felt a tinge of disappointment when the boy had sauntered off with his skates and headed outside by the side exit instead of the main. So he had inferred that he was a season member here too, with his own pass and yearly membership. Yet now all he wanted was for him to go away! It was uncomfortable knowing he was there, sitting outside the plastic barrier, watching everything —_me?_ — and he could barely keep his mind on skating. _Drat, drat, drat._


	5. Thinking about him

Chapter Three

[A few weeks later]

"Still hung up over that guy, Genrou?" Kouji was clearly amused as they walked down the corridor of their school together. The holidays were ending in a few days, but they had come back to get a few books "Why don't you just go talk to him sometime? You've been going to the rink every other day just to catch a glimpse of him, haven't you?!"

"I honestly like skating!—" Genrou began heatedly, but the red which tipped his ears made it all too obvious that Kouji had been accurate. _Why don't I just talk to him?!_ He didn't know why he didn't just go up to the skater and speak to him either.

"Well it would benefit us all if you did," Kouji said decisively as they stopped by their adjoining lockers. Genrou grabbed the lock and fiddled with it, punching the combination in as he shrugged. "Why?"

"Because hearing you gushing about him these past few months have been torture!" his best friend yelled, racing off before Genrou could throw his heavy biology textbook at him. 

"Bastard," he muttered under his breath. Yet, at the now-familiar, conjured image of the blue-haired boy, he could feel the familiar blush crawl up his neck again. _Who are you? Why do I keep thinking about you even though you're nobody but a stranger to me? Hell…I don't even know your freaking name!_

@@@

Saturday morning. Houjun looked at the clock, rolling out of bed and dragging the loose sheets down with him. Yawning sleepily, he walked to the mirror and looked at his reflection, the Chinese zodiac calendar catching his attention. It was already approaching the beginning of the New Year. Vocational school would start soon, and he would have to dye his bright blue hair back to its customary raven black. Rubbing his cheek, he turned away and stumbled into the toilet, grabbing the toothbrush from the small shelf before the unbidden thought flew into his mind.

_Maybe I'll see him today._

Groaning inwardly at his own hope, he squeezed the toothpaste tube with renewed fervor.

@@@

"He's not here," Genrou announced happily as Kouji blinked at him in confusion. "I thought you wanted to see that guy, Genrou!"

"Well, he is good-looking, but I just can't skate with that idiot around," Genrou grinned as he pulled on his gloves and stood up. "Come on! Let's go wreck some havoc!"

"Who's the one wrecking—ouch!"

@@@

_There he is,_ Houjun's heart pounded as he stopped at the side entrance to the rink, his eyes following the slim figure's awkward, yet oddly graceful, movements. Shyness overtook other instincts at that moment though, and he pulled his gray cap lower over his forehead and hurried past the swinging doors and down the lane to the counter, trying to ignore his racing heartbeat. 

@@@

"Hey," Kouji nudged Genrou as the latter whizzed past him. A moving figure outside the rink had caught his attention.

"I can't stop!" Genrou yelled back, nearly helpless with laughter. Kouji shook his head, grinning and skating over to his friend, propping an arm about him and swinging him into the opposite direction, steadying him, before he whispered loudly, "Isn't that him?"

Genrou slipped.


	6. Talking to him

Chapter Four

_Argh! Where do I go now?! The toilet?! I need to hide! I can't believe I fell on my ass right in front of him!_

@@@

_I've been seeing him so often nowadays…I must be imagining things…_

@@@

He collided, hard, with someone else going in the opposite direction, and looked up, meeting warm wine-colored eyes that widened to see him. _Oh holy shit!_

@@@

Houjun stood there stunned as one hand absentmindedly reached up to push his glasses back onto his face. 

"Sorry," the redhead muttered, before pushing past him roughly and disappearing behind the row of lockers which led to the public toilet. He looked after the other boy for a long moment, before he picked his dropped skates up and carried them to a bench at the far end of the rink.

@@@

Kouji watched as Genrou raced unheeded to the washroom, effectively knocking down the boy of his dreams in the process. He collapsed onto the chair, laughing so hard that tears rolled down his face as he grabbed at his hurting stomach.

@@@

"This is the last time you're going to come here for awhile you know," Kouji reminded his best friend as they moved over the ice side by side. "This is your last chance to talk to the guy."

"I said I'm not going to!" Genrou snarled. Kouji raised one eyebrow at him. "Why not? You scared?"

Splutter. "Me—?! Scared! Ha!"

"So you're admitting it?"

"BASTARD! I SAID, I. AM. NOT. GOING. TO!"

Kouji snickered.

@@@

Houjun watched with interest as the redhead, obviously in a heated debate with his partner, glided, stumblingly, past him. He ignored the flutter in his stomach as he got to his feet and took off smoothly on the wet, newly resurfaced ice, reveling in the feel of the cool wind brushing back his hair, of the freedom of movement. In this aspect at least, he felt coolly confident. He bent low and sped up his steps, darting efficiently into the spaces in the crowd.

@@@

It was approaching evening, and the people were thinning out. Genrou's gaze followed the gray cap that was dancing in and out of the remaining throng of holiday skaters. _This is it,_ he told himself finally. _Kouji's right. I won't be back for awhile. I don't want to leave without doing anything._

@@@

"I still think you should talk to him," Kouji insisted. 

"Mm-hmm."

"Ask him for a contact number!"

"Mm-hmm."

"Just get to know him…who knows, maybe you two will hit it off and—Genrou?"

@@@

Houjun stood frozen on the spot as the redhead waved at him hesitantly. _God, what is he doing?! Is he actually coming here to talk to me?!_

@@@

Face to face now, Genrou berated himself for pausing. The probability of him completely losing his nerve now was zero. He would have to do it. Looking slightly down into the emotionless face of the other boy, he swallowed hard before blurting,

"Hello. Do you have a contact?"

@@@

For one of the rare moments in his life, Houjun was at a complete, utter loss for words. His ability of speech left him and he gaped at the flaming-haired boy before him with all the surprise of a fish out of water.


	7. By chance

Chapter Five

[A year later]

"Hey Genrou!" one of his classmates yelled, twisting around in his chair to throw the red-haired class chairman a sheaf of papers, "Give these out will you?"

Groaning, Genrou rose from his seat and caught the flying papers. Behind him, Kouji was engrossed in a private conversation with a pretty classmate, Wesley. He handed the papers out, walking down the aisles and shouting names one by one to be heard over the general din.

He plucked his paper from the stack and bit it, noting the mark with vague clarity. _Damn, that was careless…three marks…_ He walked to Kouji with the last two papers and flipped them at him. "Yours and Wesley's."

He glanced down and looked at the bright colored file. He never understood why girls liked to decorate their files the way they did, with fluorescent markers and stickers and postcards of every genre. Wesley had joined their class that year, but was every bit as loud as any of them. Her file was stuck two inches thick with photographs and collages. He turned away just as a nagging feeling struck him, and he moved back and grabbed the file, ignoring Wesley's surprise and Kouji's raised eyebrows. _I saw it. I think I saw it._

He looked at the picture, pasted carefully over the corner of a class photo. It had been taken at one of the parks, with the sea's expanse behind it and the two people in the foreground, smiling in a normal pose. Wesley had been wearing a bright yellow jumper over black track pants, and her friend was donned in a loose pair of gray Bermudas and a sleeveless light blue shirt that matched the color of his hair.

His gaze moved over to the left. It was the same two, but with two others this time, another girl and another boy. This time, all were black-haired. The picture had been taken at some party. But the face was the same.

"What is it?" Kouji's voice interrupted his trance-like state, and he set the file down, his mind racing. _Do I want it? Do I still want it? It's been nearly a year…_

"Those are my cousins," Wesley supplied helpfully. "Do you know any of them?"

_Do I know any of them…?_ "No," he made up his mind, and quirked his mouth at the smiling girl, "But I would like to." 

*Flashback

The blue-haired boy was stunned. Genrou could see it in his eyes, his expression, his sudden stiff posture. 

"Which one?" a high squeaky voice struck him out of his assessment of the boy.

He shrugged. "Any one will do. Do you have email?"

The blue-haired skater shook his head and looked up at the ceiling. "Don't have."

"Can I have your name, then?" Genrou asked. The blood had rushed to his face. Kouji stood a few feet away in open-mouthed admiration for the former's guns.

"Houjun."

"Okay."

Genrou watched as Houjun skated off, his heart pounding. _His name is Houjun…_

@@@

"All I got was his name," Genrou explained to a beaming Kouji as they walked out of the rink. "Man I don't think I can face him again after going up to him like that!"

"Did you get anything else?" Kouji interjected eagerly. It amused him to see his confident, smooth-talking best friend stammering and flushed to the roots of his identically colored hair.

"Yes. Now I know he's shy, he probably doesn't have a computer, and he never wants to see me again!"

Kouji smirked. "You're overreacting."

*End of Flashback


	8. Remembering

Chapter Six

Houjun grabbed his surfboard and plunged into the waves, paddling out onto the foamy waves just as the water swept up and crashed down onto the surf below him. What a feeling… Laughing victoriously, he went the length of the wave until it sank down beneath his board, before he changed direction and paddled leisurely to the shore where Hikou and Kourin sat on a checkered blue picnic blanket, eating and murmuring sweet nothings to each other. He tossed his board on the wet sand, his feet making dark brown prints on the beach, as he plopped himself down on the empty space. The sunlight flashed the red squares on Hikou's board-shorts, and unbidden thoughts flew into his mind.

__

I dig my toes into the sand

The ocean looks like

A thousand diamonds

Strewn across a blue blanket

He still wondered about that day, at the rink, when the nameless boy had come up to him, and asked for his number. Would things be different had he been composed and given a coherent answer? He didn't know. _I didn't even get his name…_he sighed quietly and grabbed a lettuce and bacon sandwich from the row of white paper plates. _It's been quite a while…why do I still think of him now?_ Dismissing the thoughts, he leaned over the blanket and grabbed a plastic cup filled with ice tea. 

__

I lean against the wind

Pretend that I am weightless

And in this moment

I am happy, happy

I wish you were here

"Hey Houjun!" Hikou unwrapped his arm from Kourin's shoulders and leaned forward, grinning at him. "When are you going to get a girlfriend?! See how nice Kourin treats me!"

Houjun rolled his eyes at his friend and threw the empty plastic cup at him. Kourin giggled. "Don't pay any attention to him, Houjun," she called out, swinging in mock anger at her boyfriend.

"I never do," Houjun replied, smirking.

@@@

_He looks so good,_ Kourin sighed to herself. Houjun had his dyed, electric-blue hair plastered to his face with seawater trickling down his sun-bronzed body and his eyes not hidden behind the black-rimmed glasses he usually wore. His body was lean and long, and his model physique and charisma not concealed, but rather enhanced by the slightly tarnished silver earring on his left ear and loose Prussian blue board-shorts that matched his hair and complemented his deep tan. She loved him like a brother sometimes, because in the deep of her heart it felt like he had always been around. But other times…she banished the forbidden thoughts and smiled up at Hikou, who was completely oblivious to her mental assessment of his best friend.

@@@

He stared at the number written on the feminine pink slip of paper. The figures jumped out at him the longer he stared, written in Wesley's large loopy handwriting with the name above it. _Houjun…damn I can't believe this. A year of thinking and dreaming, I finally have his contact, and I don't dare to fucking call him?!_ He hissed in irritation at his own indecisiveness, before letting out his breath in a slow exhalation. _Well he probably doesn't want to see me again anyway…probably thinks I'm some sort of fucking pervert…so I shouldn't…_ He pasted the stick-on to the top of the phone receiver and stared at it gloomily.


	9. Bathrooms and telephones

Chapter Seven

Houjun unlocked the gate and then stepped into the porch, closing the outer door behind him and walking quietly to the front door. It had been a long day. But it had been fun, too. He smiled as he remembered how he had enjoyed the beach. He used to have a mortal fear of water, which had been the subject of more teasing than he cared to recall. He picked out the correct key as quietly as possible and then turned it in the keyhole.

The door was pulled open from inside, and Houjun nearly fell flat to the ground, his bag swinging forward as he lost his balance. Six-year old Doukun, who professed an almost worship-like manner to his older brother, jumped forward and clung to Houjun's neck, his cheeks tear-stained. Houjun set his bag down.

"Doukun? What's the matter?"

The sniffling toddler buried his face in the comfort of his brother's sun-tanned, saltwater-soaked neck. "Okasan won't let me play until I finish my work."

His older brother gave him a stern look. "I'm not going to do anything about it, either."

He untangled himself and set the little boy down. "Go finish your schoolwork," he said, bending down and giving Doukun a hug, "And then I'll tell Okasan to let you play, all right?"

His thumb in his mouth, Doukun shuffled back to his room as Houjun grabbed his bag and headed for his room. He opened the door, flicked on the lights, threw his things into the corner, and fell onto the bed, facedown. Rolling over, he glanced at the clock. It was barely ten, and he still had an essay to finish over the weekend. Sighing, he sat up, pulled his shirt over his head, and threw it into the corner, reaching over the bedside table to pluck a pair of loose black boxers from the floor, before getting to his feet and disappearing into the bathroom. Minutes later, the spray of the shower could be heard down the hallway.

The phone rang.

@@@

_Okay. I'm calm. I'm cool. I'm going to do it…_

@@@

The hot water was comforting as it washed away the sand and dust of the day. Houjun sighed happily as he reached for a bar of soap, when the phone began to ring. He paused, waiting for someone to pick it up, when he remembered that the only phones were in the hall, his parents' room and his room. Doukun was doing his work, and his mother was probably preparing the supper for his father, who would be home from the office in about half an hour. Reaching out to twist the shower tap close, he grabbed the beige cotton towel from its hook, wrapped it about his waist, and stepped out, dripping, hurrying to the phone and reaching for the receiver, holding it to his ear.

"Hello?"

Click.

He stared at the dead receiver, shrugged, put the phone back, and walked back to the bathroom and turned the water back on.

Riiiiiing.

Mildly annoyed, he stood under the blast of warm water, contemplating letting the phone ring, but decided against it and, holding the towel about his waist, grabbed the phone.

"Hello?"

Click.

Annoyance was rising fast as he replaced the receiver. He walked back to the bathroom, but had barely put one foot in when the phone rang again. His temper flared, he threw the towel onto the bed, stomped to the receiver, glared at it narrow-eyed, and then picked it up. "HELLO?"


	10. To see, to believe

Chapter Eight

Genrou winced as the voice on the other end throbbed dangerously. _Maybe I should have just called once instead of chickening out so many times…_

"Hi," he squeaked, trying to make his voice sound relatively normal, but hardly succeeding. "May I speak to Houjun please?"

@@@

At actually getting a reply from the other end this time, Houjun calmed down marginally. The voice was unfamiliar though.

"That's me. May I know who's speaking?"

@@@

_Argh! Is he asking me for my name?! Is he? Does he remember me?! Shit, oh fuck, I should just hang up now…but I already said hi!_

"May I know who's speaking?" Houjun repeated, a tinge of irritation coming through the receiver. Slowly, kicking himself and gritting his teeth, he gulped. _Might as well go ahead._

"This is Genrou," his voice came out normal now. "You don't know me."

@@@

_Holy—is this one of those stalker calls?_

@@@

"I don't know if you remember me though." Taking a deep breath, he felt a hot flush spread past his neck and burn his face. "But we met about a year ago. At the rink."

@@@

Houjun sat down heavily on the bed, his fingers almost dropping the phone in his stunned state. _Are you…are you…_

@@@

"Can we meet?" Genrou closed his eyes the moment he said the words. There was a long pause at the other side of the line. _This is the part where he calls me a loser and cuts the line. Then tomorrow, I'll see my fucking name on the fucking newspapers and then the cops are going to come arrest me, and then—_

"Okay."

@@@

He scribbled the other boy's number onto his writing pad with a black pen and confirmed the meeting place for tomorrow before he slowly set the receiver down. "Wow," he said aloud to the empty room. Shivering slightly, he noticed that he hadn't really finished his bath and stood, walking back quickly to the bathroom, leaving the towel forgotten on the bedspread. _It's really been a year, hasn't it? This guy might not even be who I think he is. What have I gotten myself into now?_ Twisting the shower tap, he reached out for the soap.

@@@

Genrou flopped back onto his narrow bed, making the springs creak dangerously under his weight as exhilaration flooded him. He flipped back and grabbed his phone again, punching in his best friend's number, as hysterical laughter bubbled up and spilled over.

"GODDAMNIT KOUJI, HE SAID YES!"

@@@

[The next day]

Houjun leaned against the railing, looking at the people skating round and round in the rink. There was a children's class being held there every Sunday now, and he honestly did enjoy watching them laugh as they learnt the technicalities of ice-skating. His own skates hung clasped loosely in his left hand. 

One of the regular instructors, Saihitei, looked up and waved at him. He smiled and waved back, but his heart wouldn't stop fluttering at the thought that he would—no, might—see _him_ again soon.

@@@

As he stepped out of the lift, he caught sight of the slim figure less than five meters to his right. Bright blue hair was shoved into a black cap, and tan skin gleamed in the harsh white light reflecting off the ice in the rink. Baggy dark blue shirt, tight black jeans, the skates in the left hand, the familiar profile…

It was him.

Somehow, the knowledge that he was going to see him hadn't been anywhere close to actually seeing him.


	11. First touch

Chapter Nine

His legs suddenly felt shaky. He was gaping slightly without realizing it, and if his heart pounded any faster Genrou was sure he would have a heart attack. Coherent thoughts flew out of his mind as he took hesitant, leaden steps forward. He pushed the nagging thoughts away furiously. 

__

The hell with chicken feet…what have I got to be afraid of? Time seemed to slow down as he covered the remaining distance, and subconsciously steeling himself with a deep breath, he reached out with one hand. _I am calm…I am cool…I am the king of the world…I can do this…all I got to do is get past the first few seconds…_

@@@

He sensed someone coming closer, and automatically spun to face the would-be invader of his solitary wait. Shock flooded him, and he had to blink to clear his vision and make sure that he was not seeing things as his hands reached behind him to grope the plastic cordon for support. The blaze of auburn hair across smooth, honey-toned ivory skin…the slim body…the wild eyes…old familiarity washed over him in a maelstrom of emotions. _It –is- you…by gods, it really…it really –is- you…_

The other boy had his hands shoved into his washed jeans, and his smile was a tad lopsided, showing two rows of straight white teeth. Houjun noted the obvious canine with stunned detachment.

"Houjun?"

He nodded slowly, still unable to comprehend what was going on. At his face, the redhead laughed. The sound made Houjun relax, and unconsciously, he smiled.

The flame-colored curls shifted slightly as the boy cocked his head at him. "My name's Genrou."

"Oh," Houjun finally found his voice, and he blurted the first thing that came to his mind. "How did you get my number?"

Genrou blinked at him in surprise for a moment, before he grinned sheepishly. "Do you even recognize me?"

_Do I recognize him? Do I? Who is he kidding?! Of course I recognize him!_

"I do," his voice came out soft but with a tinge of laughter in it as he felt the icy veneer of his usual demeanor melt away in the presence of the other boy's boyish charm. _He looks younger than me by about…three years? And is that natural hair color?!_

"Well then," Genrou smiled crookedly and shrugged. "Wesley's my classmate. I saw a picture of you and her on her file, so I—ah well, you know."

Houjun nodded slowly. "I saw you around the rink quite a few times." He hesitated, thinking about what he should say next. "About that time—when you first spoke to me?—I'm sorry if I seemed a little…uh…switched off."

Genrou looked at him, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips. "It doesn't matter now."

@@@

They sat in opposite seats of the nearby café. Outside, they could hear the clink of the bowling pins, as they fell, from the bowling alley as the heavy balls were rolled down the oiled lanes with loud 'thunks'. From where he was sitting, Genrou could look past Houjun's shoulder and see the rink, which a group of children who looked to be about seven to twelve years of age spun and laughed. Soft music wove its way through the wafting aromas from the kitchen. And for the rare second time in recent years, he didn't know where to begin.


	12. How it all started

Chapter Ten

"So—"

"Are—"

They broke off at the same time, Genrou having the grace to look embarrassed. _Damn, what's wrong with me?! I'm behaving like a lovelorn girl on her first date!_ He could already feel a hot blush creeping up his neck, and he thanked his lucky stars that the ambience of the restaurant provided them with dim surroundings.

A sudden laugh from across him startled the redhead, and he looked at Houjun, puzzled. "You're blushing." He stated it so matter-of-factly that Genrou could not even reply. The latter was openly smiling now, and seeing the curve of those well-formed, almost girlish lips, Genrou felt his own mouth twist in a mirroring grin. "Why would I do that?" he retorted as the waitress walked over to take their orders.

_This is going to work out just fine…I think…I hope…_

@@@

He had learnt that other than ice-skating, Houjun enjoyed fishing, water-sports and traveling. The blue-haired boy was three years older than he was, and had a younger brother who liked toy guns. He liked to eat spicy local foods more than take-out burgers. He thought the world of his family, who were devout Buddhists and firm observers of tradition. He was studying ancient Chinese mythology as a part-time course alongside his communications degree, in the vocational school in the northwest district. Genrou sighed and leaned back into the seat, stuffed with the rice and small dishes as much as his thoughts. "You look really good today," he mumbled before he realized what he was saying and clamped down so hard mentally that he winced.

Opposite him, Houjun looked away, warm from the compliment but red in embarrassment, and mumbled something in return.

"What?"

Houjun looked back at the younger boy, willing himself not to blush any harder, and changed the subject abruptly.

@@@

They walked out of the restaurant together. It was slightly after nine. Genrou coughed as they stepped onto the escalator. "You going home now?"

Houjun nodded ruefully. "I've still got an essay to finish."

Before he could stop himself, Genrou asked, "Where do you live?" The older boy looked at him in mild surprise, but answered anyway. 

"You going that way, too?"

"Nah," Genrou shook his head as they walked towards the train station. He reached behind him for his pass and just managed not to send the contents of his open bag flying as he stumbled. 

The station was pretty much empty for that time of the night, but then again it was a Sunday, and everyone would be at home. He stopped suddenly, and Houjun crashed into him from behind. Shocked at the contact, his nerveless fingers nearly dropped the pass as he spun around.

@@@

Houjun cursed inwardly. _That's what you get for daydreaming! _he admonished himself sharply. "Sorry."

"Uh. It's okay."

Genrou looked distinctly uncomfortable, and Houjun only then noticed that they were so close their noses were almost touching. He didn't want to move, but Genrou cleared his throat and backed off.

_Well it was fun meeting him really, _Houjun thought to himself as he pulled his own pass from his jeans pocket automatically. _Now I know he's not only good-looking, but he's also fun to be with. _He smiled to himself.

Then Genrou stopped again, and Houjun blinked as he was jolted from his musings, just in time to avoid another collision. "Is anything the matter?"


	13. Thoughts

Chapter Eleven

Genrou turned around, but his gaze was centered on the tiles. "Nothing's the matter, Houjun. I—I just wanted to tell you…that I—I had fun today. Thank you."

Houjun nodded. "Me too." Genrou was mute in response. The silence drew on, and the growing tension in the air was stifling. _What am I waiting for? Just ask him, damnit!_

"Can I see you again?"

A short pause, then… 

"I'd like that."

@@@

[A week later] 

It had been exactly a week since he had last seen him. Houjun couldn't explain away the nagging thoughts in the back of his head. As he walked out of the shower, his body glistening with water, he grabbed a towel and dried his hair roughly, his mind still racing ahead.

_I like Genrou…I really do. And it's not like I've never known that I wasn't homophobic…quite the contrary, I not only didn't mind the idea, it just never made itself seem wrong to me…_

He walked over to his closet and slid open the blue door, reaching in for clean clothes. Selecting boxers at random, he slipped them on and then looked for pants.

_But everyone else I know…my parents…I think Hikou would have trouble accepting the idea, and he's known me for so long…I never quite told anyone…_

Picking out a pair of gray-black jeans, he pulled them on and buckled it.

_I don't think I'm stupid. Genrou definitely likes me. The question is, do I like him back? And if I do, will I do anything about it?_

Reaching above the stacks of folded pants and shorts he grabbed a hanger and yanked the long-sleeved sweater from it. The sweater was white, with blue lines running from cuff to collar and patterning the front and back of the body.

_Maybe I'm really jumping too far ahead here. Maybe I've just been imagining everything, and nothing's going to happen after all. He's just a really friendly person; it's so obvious. He's probably this nice to everyone…_

He pulled the sweater over his head and walked to the door, where an array of caps hung from the colorful hooks that Doukun had had so much fun painting and putting up. He grabbed a white one and shuffled to the mirror, flipping it onto his head.

_But it's not just him, is it, Houjun? You like him too. You're even trying to look good for him, and it's only the second time you're out on a date—no I won't think of it like that. I. Won't. Think. About. It. Like. That._

"I always dress like this anyway," he said aloud. _Now I'm talking to myself. Wonderful. _

Looking at the clock, he realized he was going to be late if he didn't hurry. Bending down to pick up his discarded jeans from yesterday, he hurriedly transferred the contents of the pockets to the current ones.

@@@

"That was a great movie," Genrou said enthusiastically as they walked out of the cinema. Slightly behind him, Houjun nodded but and whatever he said was covered up by the fact that he was mumbling under his breath. It was evening, and again the shopping center wasn't as crowded as it usually was. They walked down the corridor, Genrou pausing to throw the empty popcorn bin away before they continued, moving outside the automatic sliding doors to the coolness of the night air. Genrou frowned.


	14. Just his imagination?

Chapter Twelve

Houjun had been unusually quiet today._ Then again, I don't know him that well; maybe he's just a silent type of guy? But he wasn't this…blank when I met him last week was he?_

He sighed. There was no point in wondering. He stopped and turned to face Houjun, who was apparently daydreaming—_he seems to be staring off into space a lot_—and didn't stop, crashing headlong into him, sending him off balance. Cursing under his breath, his arms encircled the older boy as he tried to regain his footing.

"Sorry." 

He sighed again, dusting off his cargo pants. "Is anything the matter, Houjun? You seem out of focus today."

Genrou looked up directly at the other boy, whose eyes were hidden beneath bangs of light blue and the tip of the cap. And the words that came next were nothing that Genrou had ever expected.

"Genrou? Do you like me?

@@@

All through the evening, Houjun had found himself distracted. He couldn't stop thinking about his own reactions to everything the younger boy did or said. He read into every sentence Genrou uttered, and every small movement he did. His frustration at himself was increasingly mounting. There was tension between them, certainly, and he did not think it was because they had only known each other such a short time. If anything, he knew he was attracted to the redhead, and that the tension on his part was certainly one of sexual connotations, but somehow it only made his wondering worse. 

"This is stupid," he mumbled to himself as Genrou moved to the left and tossed the popcorn box into the dustbin. They walked outside, and he breathed in the comforting darkness that enveloped him.

__

There's something wrong with me. Why am I wondering so much? Does it even matter? Nothing has happened yet, and it probably never will. I'm speculating, letting my imagination run wild. This sort of thing only happens in storybooks anyway, doesn't it? Guys don't really like guys in the real world. I'll go home, finish my composition and sleep on it, and when I wake up everything will be just fi—

His thoughts were cut off when he bumped into Genrou. He hadn't noticed that the other boy had stopped and turned to face him, but he sent the younger boy flailing off balance and grabbing at him for support. He felt his face grow red as he averted his eyes and mumbled an apology. The touch around him was maddening; making him confused as he assessed how that simple action made him feel. 

"Is anything the matter, Houjun? You seem out of focus today."

__

That's it, he decided, fed-up with his own inner turmoil._ I'll just ask him, and then he'll confirm everything I've been thinking, that all this is just my imagination running wild._

"Genrou?"

He felt more than saw as the younger boy looked up at him, and he felt uncomfortable in that questioning gaze, but he charged ahead before he could decide against his decision to speak out. He knew he wouldn't get any sleep that night if he didn't clear things up. _I know it, but I need a spoken confirmation that these emotions are all conjured up by me. They're not real. They don't matter._ He took a deep breath.

"Do you like me?"


	15. To tell or not to tell?

Chapter Thirteen

Caught by surprise, he could only blink. 

__

Did I hear him right? 

"Wha—wha—" he seemed to have lost his voice and he groped unsuccessfully for composure. In front of him, Houjun reverted his gaze back to the ground. His face glowed pale orange under the glare of the dim streetlights. "Do you like me, Genrou?"

The blood had rushed to his face. He stood there, tongue-tied.

"What do you mean?" he managed weakly. "Of course I like you. You're a good person, and I have fun with you! You're a great friend—"

"You know what I mean," came the soft reply. "Can you answer me, please, Genrou?"

Before Genrou could speak, Houjun continued, his words almost like he was talking to himself, but truth being that Genrou knew it was as much a confession as could be for the fact that they didn't know each other that well.

"When I'm with you…I feel something. I think you're fun, and I think you're great looking, Genrou…I'm usually not this forward, or this confused, but something about you has that effect on me. I can't think straight, and I—" here he had the grace to blush, "I feel—I get the feeling that you like me, Genrou." His voice softened and he finally looked up, focusing somewhere above Genrou's left brow. "You might think I'm crazy, or you might not. After all, we're both guys, plus the fact that I don't know you that well. I've let my imagination run wild. Right?" 

This was it. He either lied to save his status as a straight, normal guy, or he told the truth which would undoubtedly earn him nothing but trouble. He swallowed and bowed his head. It was only a decision, after all. Pretty simple.

"Does that matter to you?" the words were nothing like what he was trying to school himself to say. They were uttered hoarsely, beyond his control. He wanted to know…wanted to find out…

Houjun exhaled and shifted his weight. He was silent a moment, but he answered truthfully. "Yes. It does."

Genrou had the feeling of being watched, and he knew Houjun had finally looked at him, now that he had turned away. He couldn't stifle the racing thoughts in his head, the pounding in his chest, or stem the crimson that stained the tips of his ears and graced his neck and burning cheeks. "Why?"

The taller boy adjusted his cap slowly. "I'm not too sure myself," he admitted, his voice muffled, yet somehow made all the clearer in the distant sounds of motorcars and trains. "But after you answer, I'll know what to do. I think."

Genrou caught his bottom lip and bit, hard. _Calm down!_ he shouted at himself inwardly. _What are you getting so messed up over? He's human just like you are, isn't he?!_

And as fast as it had come, the awkwardness left him. _I've never had a people-problem, have I?_

He assessed the situation, but he couldn't tell what Houjun's reaction would be either way. He so badly hoped, but at the same time, reality was a check away, and he knew that the truth was never as easy as it looked was, neither did it come in the expected way. What could he do? He was just another guy, out one night with a newfound friend who was asking him a question he could not seem to answer for fear of the repercussions it would bring with it.


	16. Repercussions

Chapter Fourteen

The words burned in his mouth, and he knew he would have to answer. Houjun was waiting. He looked up and for the first time that night, met the other's wine-colored eyes directly with his own.

"Do I like you?"

_Do I like you?_

Goddamnit.

@@@

Houjun was never really sure when his heart began to race. But he was aware now, uncomfortably so, as he tucked one hand into the pocket of his jeans, shifting his weight again.

"Do I like you?"

@@@

_This is the simplest way out. It's too soon. I can't tell him the truth_

"Yes," he said simply. "I do."

@@@

_I knew it._

The confusion washed over him fully now, grasping him deep within its myriad, pulling him down into a whirlpool, spinning him around. Somehow, at the back of his head, he had been aware of the consequences of asking Genrou the question. He had never expected this.

_Oh yes you did. You asked him, because you knew. You asked because you wanted him to reply the way he did._

His mouth was dry and his palms were sweaty. How did they go from here?

@@@

Genrou moved before he could talk himself out of what he was doing. He didn't want logic, or common sense, to rule him. Not today. Not now. Slipping his arms around the blue-haired boy, he darted forward and planted a soft kiss on the tan cheek before stepping back, withdrawing from the startled embrace.

Under the moonlight now, they stared at each other wordlessly. Time seemed to stand still, despite the fact that it did nothing to calm the emotions, racing unchecked through consciousness and the very existence of their souls.

"I like you, Houjun. I like you a lot. I've liked you since the first time I saw you, at the rink. It was a miracle to me when I got your number from Wesley. I thought it was fate, because I hadn't seen you in so long and then you turned up there in front of me. But—" he looked down at his thumbs, hooked into the waistband of his jeans, "—I never really dreamt that it would be like this."

Houjun was silent.

"I know it's…hard to accept. I understand if you never want to see me again. I really like you, even as a friend, Houjun. I guess I was always hoping, even though the chances of you reciprocating were small," he laughed shortly. "I'll respect your decision."

@@@

"Genrou—" Houjun began tentatively. The younger boy looked up at the sound of his voice, but didn't meet his eyes. Sighing, he closed the gap the redhead had opened up between them and without thinking, reached out and lifted the chin before him. The other boy's eyes widened at the touch, but his gaze dropped insistently to the ground again.

_I don't know what to say._

"Can we still be friends?" the redhead mumbled.

_I like him._ The thought came to Houjun suddenly.

"I'm sorry, Houjun. I never meant…"

_Would it really work? Could it?_

"Say something!"

_Am I willing to try?_

"I understand," Genrou managed at last, tossing his head free of the older boy's loose hold. "I—I won't bother you again, Houjun." He moved backward and turned to run, willing the disappointment not to show in his voice and trembling hands.

"Wait."


	17. Discovery

Chapter Fifteen

He reached out and hugged the other boy tightly from behind, reveling in the smell of the silky flame-washed curls, the warmth beneath his hands. 

"What do you understand?"

He moved to the front of the younger boy, taking a light hold on the slim shoulders, leaning forward to touch his lips to the smooth forehead, missing the priceless look of absolute astonishment that played on Genrou's features. 

@@@

He took time to wonder at, and savor, the foreign brand of emotions that took him over. Everything felt brand new. The arms that held him almost fearfully and the soft lips that were pressed on his brow, the soft whisper that made him tremble.

Genrou reached out and encircled the slim body in a fierce embrace that caught the older boy by surprise. They stood there a while longer, before Houjun quietly untangled himself. "Thank you."

The younger boy blinked. "Whatever for?"

Houjun smiled, holding out his hand, palm up. "For giving me a chance."

_And these are the things those old poets say dreams are made of …Genrou…how you can change the way my mind thinks and bring my fancies to life…_

Genrou caught the offered hand and clasped it, marveling at its warmth and smoothness. "Let's go."

Together, they walked off into the night.

@@@

[Two weeks later]

Houjun entered his room and dropped his bag on the floor as he fell onto the bed, grabbing his blue bolster and nuzzling it in gratitude that the day was over. Getting to his feet, he reached down, opened his bag, and took out the day's contents, flipping his wallet, his hand-phone and his watch onto the bedside table as he sat down on the edge of the single bed again. He pulled out a large sheaf of papers held together in a binder, and sifted through the documents, noting the assignments and his study plan, as well as his marks for his homework and projects that had been returned that day. As he tried to pile the papers up in an orderly manner, a small palm-sized square card fell out of the file to the floor.

He bent over and picked it up. The blue striped card was covered with messy handwriting and a large photograph had been cut and pasted onto the center. It was a photograph from a few days ago, when he had spent the day at Genrou's house and the latter had been generous with the use of his new Polaroid camera. In the picture, Genrou was kissing him full on the lips, and two of his fingers could be seen in the foreground trying in vain to bat away the camera. Smiling to himself at the reminder, he read the words around the photograph.

"It's amazing how you make me feel," he read aloud softly. 

He set the card down and was about to start on his work when his mother burst into the room, waving her spatula at him. "Houjun! Can you please take Doukun out for a while? He's done all his work and I told him he could play in the park after he did."

"Okasan! I have work to do!" he protested weakly, getting to his feet.

"Now, be good to your brother, Houjun! It's only for a little while…what sort of work do you have anyway?"

She walked forward, and to his utmost horror, her fingers grazed the card he had just set down.


	18. Punishment

Chapter Sixteen

Genrou walked in through the front door, greeting his father cheerfully as he dropped his bag on the couch and whizzed past to the kitchen. "Mom! Is dinner ready?"

"Next time come home earlier and then I don't have to heat up the food for you!" his mother scolded as she emerged from the kitchen and set the dishes down on the sunny yellow tablecloth. "Your father and I have already eaten."

Just as he was tucking in, the phone rang, and his father answered it. Taking no notice, he wolfed down the food. "Nice dinner, mom," he mumbled through a mouthful of rice.

When he had finished eating, he made his way to the living room to collect his bag. His father was still on the phone, looking rather serious. He wondered what it was, but dismissed it as he bounded upstairs and raced to his room.

"Darn. I have homework. I have homework. I HAVE HOMEWORK!"

He really did mean to work harder this year. After all, he would be graduating, and he did want to pass well and move up to a good college. Pursing his lips, he grabbed all the necessary textbooks, stuffing the loose papers into a file, and swept the rest of the litter off the brown working desk, before leaning over precariously to grab the box of pens from the other end of the shelf. He was about to start his work when the door opened.

He looked up to see his father looking grave and furious, carrying a slim cane and his mother behind, her face set in hurt and shock. Premonition flooded him.

"Mom? Dad? Is anything wrong?"

His father stepped up him, before giving him a backhanded slap so hard that he fell back onto his bed. The older man's face was twisted in anger and sadness as he brought the thin bamboo sharply down on his son. Genrou gasped for breath as his cheek went momentarily numb.

"What?!" he screamed as he tried to move out of his possessed father's way. "What did I do?"

"Give him a chance to explain!" his mother cried from the doorway.

His father stood there, his shoulders heaving up and down with effort, his eyes narrowed and when he spoke his voice was a low hiss. "Do you, or do you not, have a relationship with a boy named Houjun?"

Shock coursed through his veins, and he couldn't answer. He sat there, mute, his eyes unfocused.

"I see that you admit it, Genrou. Then there is no need for explanation."

He shook his head in denial as the sting from the cut of the cane brought him back to the present. He stared desperately up at his father. _How—how…_

"His parents just called up! They blame me, rightfully so, for I cannot even take a son of mine into hand!" The cane flashed down again, and Genrou howled as it bit into his flesh. "Are you so badly brought up that you don't know what is acceptable, and what isn't?! Have you never learned to tell right from wrong?!"

Genrou cringed as the cane flashed before his eyes again and connected sharply with his leg. "Stop it!" he screamed, his voice hoarse and raw. "STOP IT!"


	19. Memory

Chapter Seventeen

"You will swear never to see that boy again," his father stared at him, boring into his soul. "You will apologize for the trouble you caused, and you will be punished. Do you hear me?!"

He stormed out of the room, past his mother who he could just make out behind his tear-glazed vision. She hurried after her husband, closing the door softly behind her. He knew he had wounded her to the heart with his betrayal to the family belief and society's norm. 

Genrou curled up on the bed, whimpering, trying to swallow his grief and sobs, his skin marked with the many slashes that were already showing angry red. And when he could hold it in no longer, he started to cry.

__

Houjun…

@@@

Houjun stared at the remains of the ripped up card he had cherished. The pieces were scattered, blowing about the room as he heard his mother shouting angrily to his father, and the latter growling on the phone.

"You make sure your son stays away from my son!" The bellow came through the hallway and the thin walls of his room, and he winced, squeezing his eyes shut so that the tears would not come. 

Doukun entered cautiously, grasping a piece of paper in his hand and a crayon in the other as he moved tentatively to his brother, who didn't look up as he approached. Doukun was silent for a moment. He had been crouching in the doorway when his parents had entered, yelling and shouting at his older brother.

*Flashback

He peered in curiously, cautiously, and could just make out his older brother behind the silhouettes of his parents.

"Houjun, is this true?!" their father had demanded.

Silently, the blue-haired boy had nodded. Their mother picked up a card from the table and handed it to their father, who had gone purple the moment he looked on it and dropped it, smashing it savagely into the ground before leaving it and going over to Houjun, glaring down at him. Doukun looked with interest at the card. It was blue and square, and there were two faces there. One he recognized as his older brother, and the other had bright red hair.

"How dare you, Houjun! You disappoint me!" their father raged before moving back and picking the card up, away from Doukun's curious gaze. And before Houjun, the older man ripped the card into shreds, tearing it again and again until it could never be pieced back together. And when he looked at his older brother, Houjun had gone white, and there was a look of sorrow there that he had never seen before.

*End of Flashback

"Aniki?"

The bowed head barely moved, and the slim shoulders were shaking. Doukun put the paper and crayon down and tottered forward, slipping into Houjun's arms and giving him a small hug. "Don't be sad, aniki."

Houjun raised his head and looked at the tattered pieces on the floor again. Doukun followed his gaze, then happily retrieved his paper and waved it at his brother.

"See! I made you a present!"

Through eyes hot with the onslaught of despair he looked at what his younger brother had made.


	20. Piecing it back?

Chapter Eighteen

On the white paper, in blue and red crayon, Doukun had drawn two faces together, smiling. Two lines marred the bottom of the picture though, and when the young boy saw Houjun looking at it, he beamed and pointed. "Those are the fingers!" He stared at it a moment longer, critically, as if it were a masterpiece.

Taking the paper from Doukun carefully, Houjun gazed at it, before bending down and engulfing his brother in a fierce hug. "Thank you, Doukun," he whispered, trying hard to keep his voice from shaking. G_enrou…_

@@@

[A few weeks later]

The hooded figure moved swiftly between the ranks of milling people and slipped unobtrusively between the battered trashcans and into the shaded alleyway. It was nearing night, but in the evening air the street was already beginning to bustle with the dinner crowd. The figure hurried to the end of the alley, before veering a sharp right where a dilapidated door stood. Swinging it open, the hood was set down to reveal a mass of bright red hair, as Genrou wandered among the crowded café bar before spotting another similarly cloaked man at the other corner. Mildly wrestling, he cut through the bar-goers and squeezed past a comely waitress, before entering the booth and setting himself down in front of the Houjun. The latter gave him a smile, but Genrou noticed it was wan and half-hearted.

They had taken to meeting in secret since the discovery of their relationship. Granted, it had been Genrou's idea, for he simply refused to bow to the traditions that the current society imposed upon feelings of their genre. It had put a strain on their affair, but Genrou barely noticed it, happy as he was to be able to continue to see Houjun. 

"What are you having?"

Houjun tapped his glass and tried to put other thoughts out of his head. Namely, thoughts that told him he shouldn't be out here now, deceiving his parents… "Just salad and meatloaf."

"I'll have that too," Genrou waved a waitress over and rattled off his order before turning back to Houjun with a smile. "How are you?"

_What does he want me to say? That now I'm watched as closely as a criminal in my own home, that Hikou refuses to speak to me because my mother told him to keep an eye on me and specifically what to look out for?_ He cursed inwardly, but managed a reply despite all the invading thoughts threatening to take him over. "School, as usual. Nothing much."

@@@

There was something wrong. Genrou could sense it, in the other's lack of response, in his distracted air, even in the expressions that flashed over his face but tried to hide. He sighed and scooted over to Houjun, who flinched at his proximity. Genrou pretended not to see it, but hurt was boiling over in his heart. 

"What's the matter, Houjun?"

The older boy mumbled in reply. "Nothing."

"Are you sure?"

A slight nod.

Frustration filled the redhead as he restrained himself from snapping out. He looked away curtly as the waitress came and set his order down, and he moved back to his place, smiling distractedly at her in thanks. He looked at Houjun again. It was so obvious that something was up, and not knowing what it was only made it worse.


	21. Face to face

Chapter Nineteen

Houjun was about to put his key in the lock when the door swung open, and his mother looked at him accusingly. "Where did you go?"

He shrugged and moved past her. He could feel her eyes on his back, and he hated it. He was tired of the oppression, of the hurt and of the suspicion. He climbed the stairs slowly to his room, and when he reached it, opened the door and walked in, but not before turning the door and locking it behind him. A fortnight earlier, after his parents' discovery of him and Genrou, he had come home to find his room ransacked, and any item pertaining at all to the redheaded youth destroyed or missing. He remembered his rage as tolerance had finally snapped. The shouts and the mental trauma flashed back before his eyes.

*Flashback

"What do you think you're doing?!" he hissed through clenched teeth as he stood in the doorway, looking at the rifled drawers and the open journal on the table. "WHAT. ARE. YOU. DOING."

His parents barely looked up at his arrival. "There is no room for your silly fancies and confused ideas, Houjun," his father had declared as he tore out a page from his son's blue-bound address book, the book he clearly knew had been where Houjun had kept Genrou's number and address. His mother stood there calmly, but in her hands he saw the remnants of photographs, and he knew just which memories she had destroyed.

"HOW DARE YOU!" he screamed. Red descended upon his vision like a veil as he turned on his heel and ran. He ran down the steps, out the house, and on and on. 

*End of Flashback

He sighed, pushing the thoughts out of his head, grabbing his file from the shelf and flipping it open, pulling out his worksheets. He busied himself for a good half an hour and was absorbed in his work when the doorbell rang.

Frowning, ignoring the interruption, he bit on the end of his pen and briefly wondered if he should research that particular topic when a shout reached him from downstairs.

"HOUJUN!"

Before he knew it, he had gotten to his feet, had unlocked the door, opened it, and raced downstairs where his mother stood in between them, refusing to let the youth outside in. When Houjun looked at that face, despair flooded him.

Genrou was visibly shaken, his pallor obvious with his flushed cheeks, the glint of moisture on his skin and his eyes…the glowing amber light fading each time he noticed, into a deeper brown, a darker sadness. 

"Go away before I call the police," his mother hissed, not knowing that Houjun was right behind her, taking one step forward, and then another, his gaze fixed on Genrou. There was longing, wondering and confusion as he neared the door, his emotions flitting like battered moths.

"Houjun?" Genrou's voice held a trace of tears, and of grim determination. "I need to talk to you."

His mother wheeled around then, and her brows knit together fiercely. "Go back to your work!"

He calmly slipped under her arm, and faced Genrou directly for a few moments, before turning and regarding his mother. He bowed his head, before pushing past her, blocking her reach of Genrou with his body, and silently leading the younger boy upstairs. Behind him, he could hear his mother's harsh words but, somehow, they didn't matter now.


	22. Questions

Chapter Twenty

*Flashback

After they had parted at the bar, the questions and the anger had burst over him in a merciless rampage.

__

I don't know what is going on anymore… And the tears slid swiftly down his cheeks, hot against his skin. _But I can't take it. It should never have become like this. My god, what's happening to me. My life is a mess. I hate these feelings…I don't want to be so lost, so angry…Houjun…_

He stopped dead in his tracks and began to run into the opposite direction.

*End of Flashback

@@@

Genrou walked into the room and closed the door softly behind him. Before him, seated carefully on the corner of the bed, Houjun refused to meet his eyes. He felt a deep pang within him, and he knew it had to be done before he lost his nerve. 

"Houjun," he started apprehensively, leaning slowly back against the gray cupboard that lined the opposite wall. "We have to talk."

Silently, Houjun nodded in agreement.

"We—I—" he couldn't find the words that he knew needed to be said, and that somehow was funny, a spot of irony in the situation. But the thoughts suddenly came, and when they came, they had to be spoken, direct and fast.

"This isn't about us, is it? It's about me. It was me who initiated this relationship. I never knew it would affect you so much. I also knew in the deep of my heart that all this was one-sided. You've never belonged to me the way I wanted to belong to you. And even though we shared a few kisses…it never meant anything much, did it," he laughed under his breath at himself, but pushed to continue. "And now that our parents know…it gets harder. I try to keep it the same—I try so hard, Houjun!— try to keep it as if everything were all right, but it isn't working. I think you know it better than I do." 

"Recently, every time we're together you can't even look at me. When I touch you, I see you shrink back, and your expression at that moment…you should see yourself, Houjun! You recoil from me!" he bit his lip to stop the tears from choking his words, from giving in to the respite of sobs which threatened to break from his body. 

"I'm sorry for everything I've put you through, Houjun. I started it, so I'll be the one to break it off now. There's no point in dragging it out when it makes us both unhappy. This is the best way." There. It was out, in the open. He started and turned, opening the door, anxious to be out of the house before his control shattered.

"Don't go."

The voice was so low that he thought he had imagined it at first, but knew better. He paused and bowed his head, praying silently, but he knew it was hopeless. Staying would only mean more heartache, for the both of them.

"Don't go, please."

The tears were blurring his vision as he swallowed, hard. "Why should I stay?"

The silence that followed was unmistakable. He closed the door quickly and left.


	23. To go on

Chapter Twenty-one

Houjun watched the door close, silently, and the muffled sound of footsteps slowly fade and disappear. Conflicting emotions raced through him.

"It wasn't one-sided," he whispered to himself, choking on the grief that had flooded him as Genrou walked out the door. "But I don't know what to think, Genrou. Nobody will ever accept us. You don't mind…you've always had so much confidence…but I don't know if I can take it, Genrou. These past weeks have been torture. My family shuns me, and my best friend thinks I'm the plague."

Yet, insistently, memories flashed through his mind. Genrou, sitting opposite him at the sushi bar, grinning as he grabbed plate after plate of suspicious looking foods and demolished them whole. Genrou when he had first seen him, with glasses and that ridiculously short ponytail of auburn hair. Genrou smiling, Genrou laughing…and he felt his heart twist. _I don't know what I'm feeling except…_

He stood shakily, composing his thoughts, before dashing out the door at a dead run, flying down the stairs, pushing past his shouting mother and out the main door to the gate, leaping over it, his sneakers meeting the concrete with a dull 'thud'. He looked to the main road, where the familiar figure was walking, head held high, hands in jeans' pockets, the posture straight. He ran, feeling the humid air brush back his bangs, felt the salty tears drying on his face. He ran till he reached the redhead, and with a force that surprised even himself, threw himself at the other's back and embraced him fiercely from behind.

_I don't know what I'm feeling, except…_

"I need you," he rasped, the tears making his voice rough and low. "Don't go." 

Under his hands, Genrou stiffened.

"I've made up my mind," he said shortly, throwing Houjun's hands off roughly and running off without a backward glance.

@@@

As he fled, he could barely hold his already-shaky composure together. He could feel Houjun's gaze on his back as he ran, his breath coming in ragged pants. He refused to turn around, to see the look on Houjun's face. He was torn in half, his heart split and his consciousness warring with his emotions. He wanted nothing more than to turn back and be grateful for the chance that Houjun had given him. But beyond that…the promise of anguish and public rejection…he had seen with his own eyes how Houjun was suffering. It was so much easier to just run away.

@@@

Houjun had never felt more helpless as he watched Genrou disappear from his sight. A sudden weight dropped upon his slim shoulders and he shuddered involuntarily, biting his lip.

W_hy do I keep screwing things up for myself? I kept thinking of myself, even up till the point where there was a chance I could have made you stay. I'm so sorry, Genrou…sorry…_

He looked to the side, unable to stop the uncomfortably hot tears that escaped his tightly closed eyes

__

I can't take this anymore. There's either something wrong with me, or wrong with the world.

He felt like a tiny leaf, blown this way and that to the force of the wind. There was no control, no choice as he was swept up, against his will. And god, how it hurt. 

@@@

[A week later]

Through the window, the elderly lady watched the neighbor's blue-haired son haul a considerable amount of baggage between a blue truck and his front door. She wondered where he was going as she poured her morning coffee. Where were his parents? The young man slid into the driver's seat, revved the engine and started the car. Within a few moments, he had gone.


	24. Tying loose ends

Chapter Twenty-two

Houjun grabbed the last few bags and made his way to his new apartment. He really had to thank Saihitei for banking him out on this one. That day he had gone to the rink for his usual practice, he had confided in the instructor who did count as a friend of many years. Of course he didn't know the whole story. All he knew was that Houjun had fallen out with his parents and was looking for a possible place to stay. Saihitei mentioned a cousin, Ryuuen, and had given him a number. He had gone off to look at the apartment that very evening. What he saw was enough to make him happy, and Ryuuen had been very nice. The other tenant was a university student, Myou Jyuan, who had been sympathetic to his admittance that he did not have much financial aid anymore, and had gotten him a job at the bookstore of the university campus. So the apartment had been rented at a reasonable price, and he shared the flat with two other people, but he had his own room so he didn't mind. It would be different living on his own. 

*Flashback

"Where do you think you're going?" his father boomed at him. Houjun refused to meet the older man's furious glare. 

"I can't stay here any longer."

"I forbid you to leave!"

He had looked up then, and stared unflinchingly at his father, who had been unable to understand what had come over his son. Houjun quietly resumed packing his things. 

"I've been looking around for an apartment and a part-time job. It'll be enough to pay my lodging. My classes have already been paid for in full from my personal account. You don't need to worry about me."

He left his father in his empty room.

*End of Flashback

Perhaps the hardest of all had been Doukun's tears. He was young and he could not understand how his older brother could be leaving him. The sobs and pleas had nearly broken his heart. _You're the only one who didn't discriminate, Doukun. You're the only one who thought about me being happy. _ He remembered the picture his younger brother had drawn with a small feeling of gratitude, before his resolve hardened. _But I can't stay._

Looking around at his new room, he sighed quietly to himself, before he began unpacking his things. 

@@@

[A few years later]

He had finally done it.

Clutching the diploma and the certificates of his study, the auburn-haired young man laughed to himself as he tossed his graduation cap into the air alongside all his classmates. Suddenly he was enveloped in a smothering hug, and he yelped as Kouji crashed to the ground, pinning him under his body.

"CONGRATULATIONS TO ME!" Kouji yelled merrily, waving his own certificates above his head as Genrou tried in vain to push his best friend away. "I'VE PASSED!"

"SO HAVE I!" Genrou shouted back, grinning fondly as his friend finally got off him and helped him up. They stood there, smiling foolishly at each other, before they reached forward simultaneously and grabbed the other in an embrace filled with overflowing emotions. 

Beside himself, Kouji was one of the few who had gone to the prestigious university out of Japan after winning the scholarship for a full four-year education, bypassing the college step and moving straight up to the tertiary institution. They had roomed together, and stuck it out through the ups and downs of their respective government bonds. Now, at the end of it all, he couldn't help feeling a sense of accomplishment and triumph. _I've done it!_ he thought exultantly to himself.

It was time to go home.


	25. Sorting thoughts...

Chapter Twenty-three

*Flashback

The pain was cutting into his body, making him cry out with anger and frustration. When he finally turned into his own driveway, he stopped, falling to his knees and gasping shallowly for breath. 

_Is this the way it's supposed to be?_ he raged at himself, his fists curling into balls. _Is it?!_ The tears came then. He seemed to crying a lot lately, and it was funny how the hot salty trails still stung despite how many times he felt them on his cheeks. The strangest of all was how his memories seemed to swell and overtake him when he was alone like this.

__

So close

I believe you're holding me now

In your hands

I belong

You'll never let me go

"Houjun," he rasped, his grief making his throat hurt as he murmured the familiar name. _This is never going to end. I thought it would be fine as long as we—as long as I—didn't pay any attention to it. But these feelings go beyond everything in this place, in this world. I wish I could break the rules, and just run back to you…but that would lead to nothing. Nothing at all._

He stood, brushing the grass off his clothes and the tears off his heart, before heading calmly for the front door.

_It's best we end this way, Houjun. It's best._

Opening the door, he was greeted by the smell of cooking from the kitchen, and hurried in, giving his mother a small smile. The event of many weeks ago had passed as simply a phase in their household. Oddly enough, it only made him more certain he had done the right thing, the only thing that could have been done at this point in time.

__

They always say love changes everything, that it surpasses all boundaries and brings everything to life and hope. It's not true, is it? What can we do in a place, and a time, such as this? Forsake everything we've ever known, for the sake of an uncertainty? Leave behind the expectations and dreams of your parents, of your family? It's not possible. Even knowing this…it's funny how it still hurts inside.

@@@

That year, he topped his class and was presented as valedictorian, as well as put forward as one of the candidates for the various scholarships.

*End of Flashback

Genrou smiled slightly to himself as he alighted from the plane and walked towards the direction of the arrival hall. Behind him, Kouji was screaming with another boy in their class who had been with them the whole time, Sou Kishuku. Sweeping into the warmth of the building, he headed for the luggage department, his gray sports jacket moving quickly through the ranks of people milling about the area. Spotting Kouji's lemon yellow bag, he reached over the shoulders of a tiny old lady and swooped it, throwing it laughingly at his best friend.

"HEY!"

He ignored Kouji and snaked his way past the old lady with an apologetic smile as he grabbed his navy blue bag and heaved it onto the ground. Slapping high fives with all the other students who had come back with them, they gathered at one corner to wish each other the best and to laugh about the memories they shared.

"Here, everyone pose!" Kishuku flashed his tiny silver camera at them. There was a mad scramble for places, before Kishuku set the camera down and hopped into the picture. There was a bright flash, and Kishuku scrambled off the protesting Genrou, grinning wickedly and claiming his camera. 

"I'll send one to all of you!"

"Sayonara, Kou-kun!"

"Aieee it's cold!"

"Wait, Kishuku, I just changed my mailing address!"

Genrou gave Kouji a last hug and promised to contact him by the end of the week before he pulled his bag out of the waiting area. He spotted his parents immediately, beaming at him and waving. Laughing, he moved towards them. It was good to be back.


	26. Where it started

Chapter Twenty-four

It was Saturday. The rink was crowded with people as twenty-three year old Houjun whizzed his way past the holes in the crowd. Grinning, he sped up before sliding to a spectacular stop, spraying a curtain of ice all over Saihitei, whose eyes narrowed at the attack. Ryuuen's first time at the rink wasn't proving a success. The young man glowered at his cousin and his tenant from behind, and Houjun laughed so hard at his expression that he nearly tripped.

"Come on, Ryuuen!" Myou Jyuan yelled excitedly from the middle of the rink. For some reason the tall well-built man had taken to the ice very well indeed. They were colleagues now, in charge of their own public relations company, which was actually just a step up from Houjun's own communications degree to Myou Jyuan's business management course, and the cooperation was flourishing. These days, they had become close friends.

Saihitei's mouth twitched. "If I weren't an instructor, you would be a –snowman- by now," he growled, wiping at the ice on his blue and yellow jacket. Houjun laughed and skated off to join Myou Jyuan in the center of the ice.

It was amazing what could happen in four years, he reflected, as the fluorescent lights from the top of the skating arena glinted off the blades of a passing skater. He had built his life by himself, without the support of his parents or his family, no connections but his own, and he admitted that the years had been hard and difficult. But now, standing at the pinnacle of his life and his work, he was proud of what he had managed to accomplish. 

He had remained in contact with his parents, though they had were distant relations now. Myou Jyuan had been surprised when he found out, but shrugged it off. "I guess you can never get along with people who want to rule your life for you," he had said then, and though it had been so long ago, Houjun had remembered it, and agreed with it. No one really knew what had happened that time, except for him, but he brushed the memories aside decisively. Then, he had been young, still childish. Now, as a grown man, he was decidedly more confident of his own abilities and his decisions, and if anything, he had only benefited from everything life had put him through.

He still remembered Genrou, though the image was but a fuzzy one now. He drew strength from it up till today, the memory that someone had loved him, and opened his eyes to the shackles that the modern world placed on bias and closed hearts. Through the highs and lows, that memory had stayed with him, of nights long past, filled with love, uncertainty, and stoked by the warmth of darkness.

__

You gave your life

And your endless love

You set me free

And showed the way

He looked up just as Saihitei grabbed him in an arm-lock and Ryuuen proceeded to mercilessly shove ice down his shirt. Houjun shouted and struggled free as the instructor laughed at him uncontrollably, and Ryuuen tottered unsteadily, before he revised his options and advanced on the inexperienced skater with a menacing look on his face. Ryuuen squeaked as Saihitei glided for cover, looking over his shoulder with that wicked grin on his face.

Then suddenly, a bright spot of color outside the rink caught his eye.

_That looks familiar…_

And as wild, feral eyes, dancing with light, blazed up and trapped his gaze, he blinked, unable to believe what he was seeing.


	27. Epilogue

Epilogue

As Genrou stepped out of the elevator, he shivered slightly. _It's been a while…_and then he laughed softly to himself at the familiarity of it all. He really did like ice-skating, and the words he had said to Kouji so many years ago flashed through his mind again in a fleeting memory. But he was there with a purpose this time. And he believed, with all his heart, that it would be.

__

I've got something to say…

For all this time

I've been loving you…

And ever since the day

You left me here alone

I've been trying to find

The reason why

His gaze roamed about the sparkling ice, searching, hoping…before it flew up and caught a pair of surprised, wine-colored eyes set in a face that held so many memories, that opened up that part of him which he had kept, and cherished, through the years. He smiled as his heart filled and he moved closer, touching the plastic wall that separated the rink and him.

So many years, so many reflections, so many remembrances. If anything, time away had made him grow, helped him learn. It was all a question of acceptance. And he was determined to answer it.

__

And I swear

If you come back

Here's my life

Till the end of time

And I swear

I'll keep you right

By my side

'Cause baby

You're the one I want

Oh yes you are

A smile played on his lips, as without the hesitation he had harbored so long ago, he lifted his arm and waved. _I never forgot…_

The End


End file.
